


Alcoholics Anonymous

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: “I’m James, and I’m an alcoholic.”  (Season 7 speculative fic)





	Alcoholics Anonymous

**Author's Note:**

> I've been kicking around ideas for what's going on with Hook, Rumple, and Regina in s7 and this is the result.

“I’m James, and I’m an alcoholic.” 

“Hi, James.”

That’s how they introduce themselves at these meetings. James thinks it’s somewhat silly, but it works. Or maybe it doesn’t. It’s supposed to remind you who you are. A person. An alcoholic.

As if anyone can forget.  
  
It’s why they’re all here, after all. Alcoholism – a terrible darkness that feeds upon people’s weaknesses, consuming them until they’ve destroyed their lives and those of the ones around him.

He used to not be an alcoholic, but instead a stand-up guy, they type you’d see on the Army recruitment posters – only for him, the Navy. James didn’t drink, didn’t gamble, didn’t give in to any of his vices. He had wanted to be a hero, just like his brother, serving Queen and country. Then there was the war, and he lost his brother and half the crew.

And in his grief, James drank.

He drank and he fucked and he gambled and then he drank some more. Met a woman as wild as he, loved her, and lost her in a car accident that took his hand. He tried his best to drown himself in the bottle, only to be rescued by the beautiful savior who would become his wife. He stopped drinking for her, for the babe that came later, and because of his own stupidity, lost them. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear his daughter cry during their last moments together.

That’s his story. That’s why he’s here, because he once promised his wife he would never relapse, and he intends to keep that promise even if she isn’t here to see it.

They all have stories similar to his. Some worse than others, all damning in their own way.

His sponsor is a man named Adam. Adam’s story is also of love and loss. His own alcoholism drove away his first wife and son. Later, he found another woman who he thought accepted both sides of him, dark and light. But he had been proud, he said, arrogant in thinking that he could have both. His wife, the second one, ended up kicking them out of his home, demanding he never return. He hasn’t seen her or their child since. Doesn’t even know where they are now. 

Adam is supportive. He lets James talk about missing his wife and daughter, and shares his own stories about missing his sons. They’re kindred spirits, two old souls who’ve experienced far too much in their lives. Sure, much of it has been their own fault, but it’s still all fucked up.

James wonders where they’d all be if it wasn’t for their vices. Would he still have a hand? Would Adam be with his family? There’s this woman who also comes to the meetings named Queenie. She always wanted to adopt kids, but too many DUIs on her record kept her from ever being approved. No one wants to give a kid to a drunk. Would she be a mother if not for her darkness?

Adam tells him that there’s no use dwelling on the “what might have beens.” It would only ruin him in the end, make him unable to move on. There’s no changing what happened. His wife and daughter are gone. He can’t get them back. Life isn’t some fairytale with a “happily ever after.”

Sometimes, he dreams he’s an old-timey Naval officer sailing alongside Liam. Other times, the dreams change and he’s in full pirate regalia. Once, he even dreamed of climbing the beanstalk with his wife. Those are the good kind of dreams, but there are nightmares, as well. He has nightmares of Adam crushing his first loves’s heart, his wife driving a sword through his gut, and a cloud of darkness engulfing both her and their child.

He chalks those dreams up to some form of PTSD, his own guilt clawing away at him. He doesn’t understand how they can be both better and worse than his own reality.

His own reality is a studio apartment downtown. He lives there alone. He has no pets. His walls are sparsely decorated. He rarely cooks. He doesn’t date, despite the gentle urging of friends. His still wears his wedding band. So does Adam. This too is something his sponsor understands.

The meeting goes on for what feels like forever. Sometimes, he even wonders why he comes. He tells himself it’s for Emma, for their daughter. For Milah and Liam and everything that was lost. But every now and then he wonders if it is worth it, if drinking just wouldn’t be easier. Then again, that’s why he’s here.

Later that night, he goes back to his apartment. He doesn’t even grant Adam a proper goodbye, just smiles and nods. There’s a man and a little girl in the elevator when he enters. He’s seen the man before, Henry something or another, but the girl is new. The elevator stops one floor below his. 

“Come on, Lucy,” Henry says. The girl spares one last glance at him before she goes.

She gives him a wide smile that he returns just before the elevator doors close. His own daughter would have been about the same age, give or take a year. He tries to ignore the pain in his chest at the thought.

When James arrives home, he wants to do nothing more than drink.

After all, he is James Hook, and he is an alcoholic.


End file.
